Chapter 18
18
Amelia
B Y THE TIME we reached my parents’ house in Boise, it was dark, I was freezing, and my sciatic nerve had lost its elasticity and turned into a hardened rubber band that would likely snap when I stretched it out. Riding for almost six hours in body armor and drizzling showers while bracing for another attack had been a new level of hell. Even the rain gear Morse had packed for us hadn’t prevented me from becoming a drowned rat, and I’d learned I was more of a fair-weather, short-trip type of biker broad.
Morse stopped the bike beside the security access box, braced us with a leg, and asked, “You sure about this?”
“Yes. I need to talk to them about Morgan.” I keyed in my code, thanking my lucky stars when the gate clicked with approval before swinging open. At least my parents hadn’t locked me out.
“Okay.”
It was an acknowledgment, not an approval, since he’d already made his opinion on this visit known. More than once, he’d threatened to drive my ass back to Seattle and tuck me safely away in the clubhouse until this mess blew over. The threat hadn’t been nearly as alarming as how my body had reacted. Every overprotective word out of his mouth made me melt into a puddle. This newfound kink of mine was getting way out of control.
Despite his informed and well-meaning arguments, he’d respected my wishes and had delivered me here. But as I stared at the ostentatious mansion looking down on the city from its coveted hilltop address, I wanted nothing more than to go home. However, this wasn’t about me. I was here to safeguard Morgan’s future. Besides, we’d come too far to turn back now.
Fueled by a determination to keep my daughter out of debt, I rewrapped my arms around Morse’s waist, and we drove through the gate and parked. Contrary to my concerns, my sciatica didn’t snap when I stood, but holy shit, did it ever hurt. Morse watched me like a hawk, the concern in his eyes making me feel like a decrepit old lady. Biting back the pain, I removed my helmet, sighing in relief at the ease of pressure. I couldn’t wait to strip off the rest of my heavy gear.
Morse collected our supplies from the saddlebags, stuffing everything into a backpack he slung over his shoulder before turning to evaluate me, concern now etching lines across his forehead. I’d removed all my bandages at the last stop so they could get some air and scab over, and he reached forward, tucked a lock of wayward hair behind my ear, and inspected the most significant cut across my cheek. Like the others, it was shallow. We’d gotten lucky. So fortunate, in fact, that every time I thought about what could have happened, my chest tightened until darkness settled over my vision, and my knees grew weak.
“You okay?” he asked.
With his attention laser-focused on me, I could barely breathe, so I nodded.
He didn’t look convinced. “I can carry you if you want me to.”
That declaration snapped me out of my stupor because I couldn’t think of anything more horrifying than being picked up. That was something men did to petite women, and there was nothing little or light about me. “I’m good, thanks.”
“You’re in pain.”
“It’s not that bad.”
He frowned. “The offer stands.”
I thanked him again, even though there was no way in hell I’d take him up on it. Together, we approached my parents’ house. My teeth chattered, partially from the cold, partially from the usual trepidation of dealing with my folks. To my surprise, Morse caught my hand, lacing his fingers through mine.
“I don’t want you out of my sight while we’re here,” he said. “Okay?”
I should have told him I was a grown-ass woman who didn’t need a babysitter, but I was too busy clenching my thighs together, hoping he didn’t notice the raging lust that engulfed me every time he went all caveman on me. I was all for keeping his sexy ass in sight.
Squeezing his hand, I agreed. “Deal.”
The front door swung open, and a figure darkened the doorway, cordless phone clutched in her hand like a weapon she was proficient with. Motorcycles weren’t exactly common in the neighborhood, and the roar of Specks’ Harley likely scared the bejesus out of her.
“Can I help you?” she asked, squinting past the porch lights to see us.
Immediately recognizing our greeter, I pulled away from Morse and stepped into the light so she could see me. “Hey, Thelma.”
Surprise flickered across her features as her defensive posture relaxed. “Amelia? Is that you?”
I couldn’t blame her for not recognizing me in this getup. An answering grin tugged at the scratches on my face as I closed the distance, stepping into the embrace of the only person in this house who’d ever made me feel like I belonged. She smelled of homemade bread and spices, and I breathed her in, letting her comforting scent calm my nerves.
“The one and only. How are you?”
“Great. Wonderful. But more importantly, how are you? Two years is too long for you to stay away. And this….” Tugging at my biker vest, she released me to tsk at my road-worn appearance before scowling at my companion. “Who are you, and what have you done to my girl?”
Attempting to shield him from her undeserved wrath, I made introductions. “This is Morse, and he’s not responsible for my condition. He tried to talk me out of coming.” Repeatedly, in fact. “Morse, Thelma is my family’s housekeeper and the woman who essentially raised me.”
He stepped around me, offering his hand. “Pleasure to meet you, Thelma.”
Brave, considering the eye-daggers she tried to stab him with as she ignored his hand to gesture at my face.
“And you did not do this to her?”
“No, ma’am. I’ve never hurt a woman in my life.”
“He saved me from a dangerous situation.” I sidled back up to him, unwilling to let him face her animosity alone. “Put himself in the line of fire to protect me.”
She eyed him again, but her expression softened at the way he watched me like I was some prized possession he’d do anything to protect.
My stomach did a somersault even as my teeth clinked together from the cold.
“You’re freezing. Come in where it’s warm.” Thelma ushered us through the door and into the open marble entryway, stopping to close the door behind us. “Your parents won’t be home until late tonight. They weren’t expecting you until Thursday evening.”
I’d wanted to call ahead and warn them of our early arrival, but Morse had insisted I didn’t, just in case they’d sent the shooters we’d encountered south of Colfax. I still couldn’t believe they would ever stoop to murder, but turning our visit into a surprise had been a compromise I could live with. “Plans changed last minute.”
“They’re at a charity dinner for the new hospital wing.” She turned her attention to the phone in her hand. “I’ll call and see if they can come home early.”
“No.” I reached for the phone but stopped shy of ripping it out of her hand. “Thank you, but it’s been a long day on the road, and we need to bathe and sleep. There’s no need to interrupt their schedule until morning.” And I was in no condition to deal with them right now. If Mom saw me in this state, I’d never hear the end of it.
Thelma reluctantly agreed, lowering the phone to her side. I bent to remove my dusty boots so I wouldn’t track dirt all over the floors but stopped short when fire raced up my leg. A hiss of pain escaped from my lips, and Morse was at my side in a second, demanding to know what was wrong.
“I can’t take off my shoes.”
The admission hurt almost as much as my leg did, but instead of cringing at my weakness, he dropped to his knees and loosened the laces, easing off one boot and then the other before removing his own.
“I’ll get these cleaned for you,” Thelma said, now smiling fondly at Morse. He’d sure won her over quickly. “Your room is ready. As is Morgan’s. I was told she would be coming…?”
“She’ll be here in a few days,” I confirmed.
“Wonderful news.” With a glance at Morse, she added, “Theo’s room is available, too. Are you hungry? Can I make you anything to eat?”
We declined, and I shooed her away, prepared to play hostess and show Morse around, but his look of incredulity at the mention of it made me laugh.
“What? You don’t want the grand tour?” I asked.
“You’re cold and tired. You need to rest.”
I would have argued had I not lacked the energy to do so. Besides, I hated this house in all its gorgeous, pristine perfection. I may have grown up here, but it had always felt frigid and sterile, more like a museum than a home.
“Relax,” he said. “I’ve got you.”
His words made me realize how rigid my posture was. It was habit to straighten my shoulders and suck in my gut when I entered this house. I blew out a breath and forced my shoulders away from my ears. The understanding that splashed across Morse’s expression as he offered me his arm like some old-fashioned gentleman made me feel entirely too seen and vulnerable. He hadn’t grown up in wealth, but he’d been an outsider, too, and the man was nothing if not observant. I hooked my arm through his and guided him to the modest stairwell to the lower level, away from the fancy dual staircases that led up to the media room and my parents’ offices.
“It’s been two years since your last visit?” he asked as we padded down the stairs, our footfalls echoing off the hardwood.
“Yep. I only come when forced, and the last time was to enroll Theo in school.”
The keen way Morse watched my lips form words sent sparks through my bloodstream. I knew I was a frumpy, middle-aged mom whose left leg throbbed with every step, but his attention made me feel beautiful and fascinating. It was intoxicating.
I stopped in the doorway of my childhood room to point across the hall. “That’s Theo’s room. You could stay?—”
He was shaking his head before I finished the first sentence. “Nope. I already told you, I don’t want you out of my sight, Amelia. I’ll sleep on the floor.”
Clouds gathered in his eyes, promising me one hell of a storm if I fought him on this. That was fine because persuading him to leave my room was the last thing on my mind. A shudder that had nothing to do with the cold shot up my spine, pebbling my nipples that pressed painfully against the heavy body armor. Thought he’d sleep on the floor, did he? We’ll see about that.
“We need to get you out of this gear and warm you up,” he said, misinterpreting my body’s reaction.
Nodding, I stepped into the room, hurrying past the king-sized bed to turn on the gas fireplace in the corner. Morse stopped by the windows to take in the view of city lights below while I tugged off the biker vest he called a cut. Déjà vu hit hard as he turned and helped me out of my rain gear and bulletproof vest, leaving me in leggings and a blouse that had adhered to my clammy skin and would need to be peeled off. Since I hadn’t expected to be freezing my ass off on the back of a bike today, the bra I’d chosen had zero padding and did nothing to hide the state of my erect nipples. Based on the heat building in Morse’s gaze every time he lost the battle not to look, he’d noticed.
His phone buzzed. He tugged the burner out of his pocket and glanced at the screen. “Right on time.”
Jed had been texting us pictures of my daughter every half hour on the dot. Morse turned his phone around to show me the latest image. Morgan was curled up in an armchair surrounded by shelves of books, yet still reading on the tablet from her uncle, seemingly unaffected by our near-death experience and last-minute change of plans. I’d been afraid all these schedule modifications would send her into a full-on meltdown, but she seemed to be handling this nightmare better than I was. Despite the updates, my stupid lizard brain kept insisting that my offspring was in danger and it was my duty to be there protecting her. It didn’t compute that my presence had put her in danger in the first place. The only thing keeping me from freaking out was the promise that Specks and Jed had made to protect Morgan with their lives and these regular proof-of-life pictures.
“We shouldn’t have come to Idaho,” I finally admitted. “It was foolish to put her life in danger to get her school paid for.”
Morse cupped my chin in his hand and lifted my gaze to meet his eyes. Heat flared between us, just like it always did when he touched me, making my panties wet despite the roiling emotions and self-recrimination. “It’s not your fault some bastard put a hit out on you. We still haven’t uncovered a motive or any suspects, making this entire situation seem unreal and difficult to grasp. You did what you thought best for Morgan at the time, and now that you have new data, you’ll adjust any future decisions accordingly. That’s all you can do. Can’t go back. Can’t change anything.”
He was so close; all I wanted to do was melt into him. His intense gaze swept over my face like he was studying a chessboard and plotting his next move. I licked my lips, emboldened by the way he clocked the sweep of my tongue.
He leaned in, but the goosebumps sprouting up my neck must have caught his attention because instead of kissing me like I wanted, he barked, “Shower?”
Startled, I pointed to the door on the other side of the fireplace. He grabbed my hand and pulled me into the en suite, slapping on the light as he deposited me in front of the dual sinks.
“I’ll be right on the other side of this door,” he said.
Then he fled, practically slamming said door behind him.
I slapped a hand over my mouth to hide my laughter because there’d been legitimate fear in his eyes and an enormous circus tent in his pants. Morse wanted me every bit as much as I wanted him, but we were both too awkward and hung up on the situation to do anything about it.
Of the two of us, I had the best chance of making something happen. Determined, I glanced in the mirror to give myself a pep talk, only to confirm that I looked like a battered girlfriend. No wonder Thelma had given Morse the evil eye. The harsh mirror lights were perfect for applying makeup, but they highlighted every bruise and cut right now, drawing too much attention to my under-eye bags.If they got any bigger, I could store loose change in them.
Ignoring all the problems I could do nothing about, I finger-combed the worst tangles from my hair. No amount of fluffing improved the flat areas, so I gave up and stripped off my leggings and shirt. That was when my confidence plummeted to the floor. Shivering my terrified ass off for half the day should have burned off some fat cells, but no, blubber clung to me. And this lighting, combined with the pale blue tinge of my clammy skin, made every dimple of cellulite glow.
What am I doing?
I wasn’t giving off MILF vibes, that was for sure. So what if his gaze felt like silk lingerie every time it slid over my body? Who cared that every time he was alone with me, he got hard? He was far too young for me and hadn’t even built a family yet. What if he wanted kids of his own? No serious relationship could come of getting it on. Right?
What would Thia say?
She’d tell me to buck up and ride that biker, which sounded better and better the longer I thought about it. Not every ride had to extend into the sunset. Morse had a painful-looking erection and an obvious fixation with my boobs, and I had four years of celibacy and a near-death experience to work out. We could hook up now and work out the details later.
I just had to convince him to stop playing the good guy and ravage me.
Picking my confidence up off the floor, I stuffed it into my pocket and killed the obnoxious mirror lights in favor of the muted shower orbs. The result was a somewhat slenderizing backlit glow that I could live with. I could live without the flattened halo look, but he was a biker. Helmet hair was their thing, right?
I can do this.
Thia will be so proud of me.
I turned on the shower and then posed in the mirror until I figured out the best way to stand to hide the most flaws.
Courage, Amelia. What’s the worst that can happen? He runs screaming from the room?
More importantly, what was the alternative? Flashes of glass shards sticking out of the seat kept tugging at the edges of my psyche, reminding me of everything I wanted to forget. I needed a distraction. We both did.
“Morse!” I shouted before I could talk myself out of it.
Feet pounded, and the door burst open. He appeared in the doorway, gun in hand, as he frantically scanned the room. “Everything okay?”
It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the lower light and find me, but I could tell the instant he did because flames erupted in his eyes. A noise that could have been a groan or a curse bubbled out of his throat. It was hard to tell because he, too, had removed his outerwear, stripping down to his jeans and a thin white undershirt that clung to every hard line of his torso, making coherent thoughts impossible. Oh my good gravy, the muscles on this man. He really could have carried me into the house if I had let him. The fly of his jeans was undone— likely to relieve the pressure on the massive bulge in his navy-blue underwear—and the way he’d rushed in here undone yet ready to protect me was only the icing on the beefcake. The air thickened with lust as desire burned low in my belly.
I needed to say something sexy.
“The shower’s enormous.” I hooked a thumb over my shoulder in case he’d missed the walk-in river-rock monstrosity that took up a good quarter of the bathroom. “Plenty of room for two and multiple heads.”
I snapped my mouth closed before I could start explaining how each one worked because my sexy talk game seriously needed work.
What is wrong with me?
Yet despite my botched seduction attempt, Morse’s attention was fixed on my breasts. His voice came out gruffer than ever when he said, “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”
He was probably right, but I’d already committed, so I reached behind me and unhooked my bra. “You don’t want to take a shower with me?”
His nostrils flared, the edges of his self-control visibly fraying. “There’s shit we need to talk about first.”
“Not tonight. Tonight, I just want to give in and lose myself to whatever this is. Don’t you?”
“Amelia.”
My name was a prayer on his lips, a plea for mercy I could not grant. I slid the straps down over my arms, and my bra fluttered to the floor.
Morse cursed as his gaze locked on my bare breasts. Reaching behind his back, he locked the door before lowering his gun to the countertop. He took two steps toward me and then reached over his head and yanked his shirt off.
The pain that registered across his features drew my attention from the mouthwatering display of muscle.
“Are you okay?”
His nostrils flared, and hunger ignited in his eyes. He hooked his thumbs on the top of his underwear and jeans, shoving both down in one go. He stalked toward me like a damn lion on the prowl. A thrill shot up my spine, and I backed into the shower.
I was his prey.
And I desperately wanted to be caught.